After I got back from Southeast Asia all I wanted to do was leave again. I had the “travel bug” or whatever it is you retards call it. All I knew is that there was so much of the world that I wanted to see and I better get on that shit before I drop dead. My buddy from college, Frazier and I decided to drive down to the Baja peninsula of Mexico. We didn’t really plan anything out other than looking at a few spots that we could camp on the beach. I figured that nothing says adventure like camping on the beach in fucking Mexico. Between living in Colorado for a few years and my Southeast Asia trip I decided that staying in hotels was pretty fucking stupid if there was any way around it. Why spend the money when you can camp or sleep in the car?
Frazier and I headed out in my Chevy Blazer for the drive to Mexico with a bag of weed, hardly any money and no real plan. After the long ass drive from Colorado with only stopping for gas, we get to California. I’ve always had a problem with California for some reason and I never wanted to go there but we didn’t really have a choice if we wanted to get to Rosarito. I guess something about all the pretty, rich people made me fucking sick. Plus, the Braves were in San Diego in a couple of days and being from Atlanta and a huge Braves fan I had planned on swallowing my pride and hanging out in San Diego for a couple of days. So we get close to the border and the plan was to park on the US side and walk across the border and get a cab to Rosarito. Somehow we fucked that up and ended up in the line to Mexico with no chance to turn around. We knew better than to bring weed across the border and didn’t want to leave it in the car because of drug sniffing dogs but we fucked that up as well. Luckily, we just told the Mexican border agent that we fucked up and were turning around and he didn’t fuck with us.
We got off the first US exit from Mexico and found some neighborhood where we stashed our weed in the woods and headed to park at the border so we could walk across to Mexico. When we got into Mexico it was pretty surreal. We went from the beautiful, rich, asshole California to dirty, stinky Mexico in a matter a feet. We immediately got a cab and I immediately got pissed off when the driver told us it would cost dollars to get to Rosarito. In the worst Spanish possible I tried to explain that we were in Mexico and they didn’t use dollars so I was paying in pesos. I didn’t want to get ripped off but we probably did even though I refused to give him dollars.
We got to Rosarito and we needed to find a place to camp. We both had our big backpacking bags and didn’t really know what the fuck we were getting into. Rosarito seemed like a place that reminded me of Panama City, Florida or some other Spring Break destination. It was full of multi-level dance clubs on the beach and I’m pretty sure it’s where 18 year old Abercrombie faggots from San Diego went to drink. We started walking down the beach away from the clubs so we could find a spot to camp where we wouldn’t get robbed or fucked with. After about a mile it started to clear away from civilization and we reached an inlet coming into the ocean. After further examination we discovered that it wasn’t just any inlet into the ocean, it was a god damn sewage inlet into the ocean. You could see Mexican shit logs floating by into the Pacific Ocean! Who knew Mexicans actually shit logs, I get the Cambodian Piss shits just thing about Mexican food. Welcome to fucking Mexico!
We carefully jumped over the Mexican shit river and walked a few hundred yards down where we thought we were safe enough to camp. We then hauled our shit all the way back to the clubs and decided to get shit hammered. One of the clubs was nice enough to hold our bags while we drank and they had an “all you can drink special” for 20 bucks. Here we go again with these fucking Mexicans charging US dollars! Regardless, we got shit blasted in this Mexican dance club on cheap tequila and shitty beer. If you know me at all, you know I fucking hate dance clubs and don’t drink tequila. I guess there are exceptions while on vacation in god damn Mexico. After a full night of drinking, Frazier decided that he wanted to leave and go set up camp. He grabbed his pack and for some drunken reason I decided to stay behind. I told him that I would just look for the tent and meet up with him later.
After he left nothing really exciting happened and if it did, I don’t fucking remember it. At some point I got my pack and headed to find Frazier and the tent. I knew that he was at least past the shit creek so I stumbled down the beach with my big camping pack. As I approached the shit creek I walked up to the edge and threw my pack over and looked for my best crossing. I then decided that my best bet was to get a running start and jump over. I went back about 20 yards or so and drunkenly started booking it for my leap across the Mexican shit river. As I got to the edge and was about to successfully make my jump, the sand of the inlet gave away and I came crashing face first into every Mexican’s piss and shit in Rosarito, Mexico. I was covered in sewage, not just any sewage but Mexican sewage. Trying to be as racist as possible, Mexico is fucking dirty and the shit they eat down there makes you piss out of your fucking ass. The fact that earlier we saw logs floating down the river is even more disturbing. That means that what makes me piss out of my ass, their bodies are used to. Piss shit or logs, it’s still fucking shit from shitty fucking food. I did my best to drunkenly wash myself off in the ocean but remember, the god damn shit river was flowing into the ocean. What good does that really do? I made it back to the tent and went to fucking sleep covered in piss and shit from every Mexican in Rosarito, Mexico.
I woke up in the morning hungover and covered in piss and shit to the sounds of a river flowing and I opened the tent to a monster horse cock taking the biggest piss he could about 5 feet from the tent. Some fucking old Mexican thought it was a good place to gather his horses for his morning horseback rides down the beach for the gringos. Who knows, maybe we thought his horse gathering place was a good place to camp but regardless, fuck that guy. All I wanted to do at this point was to get the fuck out of there and get a shower. I explained my story to Frazier and we packed up to find a cheap hotel. Hotels may be stupid and a waste of money but if you’re covered in piss and shit from every Mexican in Rosarito, Mexico you deserve a shower no matter how many places there are to camp.
After getting a refreshing shower we walked around a bit and were walking down a side street when we saw this drunk Mexican blasting La Cucaracha music take a corner too sharp, hit a car and start speeding and swerving towards us. We jumped out of the way as this guy sped by hitting several other cars and continuing on. Welcome to god damn Mexico! This is why I didn’t want to drive my car down there.
Not much else happened on that trip. We knew it was time to get the fuck out of there so we just laid low that night and met some really ugly chick from San Diego that smoked some weed with us and told us we were crazy for camping on the beach. We got the fuck out of there the next morning and headed to the beautiful, sunny San Diego. I may be a little crazy and it was probably a stupid thing to do but normal vacations bore me. Whatever you do though, don’t tell those Mexicans down there that they all pissed and shit on me. I don’t want those fuckers to inevitably take my job AND piss and shit all over me. One or the other assholes, EQUILITY!